vi. video. unseelie locked. night of the 7th.

[vrykolakas]

[News has reached the front lines. The Brucolac has rubbed his face clean for this broadcast, but his pupils are blown, blood drying in his eyebrows, and he hasn't taken off any of his armour.

He looks like cold hell.]

Those at Caer Scima who got out. The Ninth Spire has room for you; if you need to avoid the sunlight, the cellars are ready. Blood, food, medical aid, a place to sleep, whatever you may need. Go via fairy ring, or else follow the Criostal down to where it meets the sea.

I can't meet you. [He grits his teeth, rubs at one brow with a spike-gauntleted hand, sounds like he's furious at himself for it.] Needed at the front lines. Give me some days. Until I return, my captains have orders to take you in and treat you well.

Comments

[gehennawind]

[She was never that good at refusing temptations if they're being insisted upon. Tragic.]

Alright, Bru-- the--

... how may I call you?

[vrykolakas]

[He does alright at hiding his grin. It's not malicious, at least.]

Brucolac. Brucolac will work well.

[gehennawind]

[Her smiling is more the embarrassed kind.]

Brucolac. Thanks. ["I owe you." Paloma doesn't say it aloud, she is afraid to give that leverage away freely, but it's plain fact. Who knows how long she would be running in this direction for if he hadn't provided an alternative?]

So I, ahh, I'll see you at your spire?